


Vampire Hunter D: Of Bones & Stars

by 1andOnlyMandiCakes81



Series: Vampire Hunter Chronicles [7]
Category: Vampire Hunter D (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst and Humor, D is going to get a headache from all of this, Dhampirs, Explicit Language, Fixing Canon, Gen, Half-Vampires, Horror, Magic, Magic-Users, Monsters, Personalities are gonna clash and it might not be pretty, Rivalry, Science Fiction, Supernatural Elements, Vampire Hunter D - Freeform, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, bad guy to good guy, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-12-07 18:06:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18238409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1andOnlyMandiCakes81/pseuds/1andOnlyMandiCakes81
Summary: The lands of the Frontier quake in the North. Then mysteriously, the Hunters known as D and Nadia vanish without a trace. And in their stead, a man is found... He looks like D, sounds like D... But isn't? Who is he, and where has the real D and his wife disappeared to? As the search progresses, it seems there's more afoot than initially thought.Vampires, trials, the Sacred Ancestor...What could possibly go wrong.





	1. Resurrection

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add more tags as the story develops.

There had been rumblings in the mountainous regions to the North. Small tremors at first, or rather small enough that the few scattered villages and townships took no notice, that is...until those tremors grew in strength. The earth shook beneath the people's feet, and nearly toppled trees and buildings. Some had even reported multiple avalanches in the snow capped peaks of the old North Lake range. While it was not uncommon for disastrous mishaps to occur in the Northern sectors, happenings such this, earthquakes and the like, were particularly unusual.   
One such occurrence happened ages ago around the town of Sedoc. There was also the mysterious meteor-like crash that decimated part of the region.  
Of course, these more recent and peculiar quakes had yet to be as destructive as past events. But at the same time, it seemed as though there existed something deep down that was displeased with the world above. What that could mean, no one wanted to find out. However, within days of these quakes starting, they suddenly stopped. A strong quake had begun, then halted in mere moments, with no tremors to follow; as if someone had simply flipped a switch. For those living in this part of the Frontier, they breathed a sigh of relief when the quakes stopped, and within months it seemed as though the quakes had never happened. Perhaps the perceived angry something-or-other the folks of the North feared might appear, decided they weren’t worth the effort.  
For those living farther South, the news of the quakes had been coupled with something else entirely, although such information had not been broadcast through the Frontier news network. In a place known as Haven, secluded in a wide crater, two persons of great importance vanished.  
D, the Hunter who'd been the town's most prestigious resident, was gone. Then several days later, so was his Hunter wife, Nadia; who'd left in search of D.  
Days went by. Then weeks. Then months. At the sixth month mark, the two eldest of their offspring took it upon themselves to work in their parents' stead, venturing out for quick jobs and clues as to the whereabouts of their missing family.  
Their journey thus far, had not been fruitful.  
Devan sighed heavily as he rested against the trunk of a shady tree, laying his open notebook in his lap, his cyborg mount nibbling grass not but a few feet away. Fatigue weighed on his features and body, worry pestering his sleep; and that's if he slept at all. The dark circles under his eyes seemingly grew darker with each passing moment, lines creeping in on his youthful face. Anymore and he might actually look his age, chuckled his partner sitting across from him. Devan groaned. The last thing he need at the moment was a reminder of how he looked despite his years. Thirty-one, yet appeared as though he was in his final year of high school.

"Right back at'cha, Sis," he muttered back at the young woman; his sister, Deana.

Deana chuckled again. Of course, she had the same conundrum--mid-twenties, and just as baby-faced as her brother. Unlike Devan, however, she at least had a sense of humor about it.  
First adjusting his long duster against the chilly wind, Devan then raised his hand to stop Deana's teasing. If this was her way of lightening the tension, she needed to pick a different method as this was only exacerbating his sour mood. They didn't need jokes at a time like this, they needed answers. What happened to their father? Their mother? Moreover, where could they be? Provided they were still alive...

"Everyone back home is worried sick, Ana," Devan furrowed his brow. "Chrissy practically lives at the church, praying for a miracle. And Lyn is at her wits end trying to keep the foster home running on her own..."

"And the twins?"

Devan heaved another sigh, "Don't get me started. As far as I know, neither have left mom's training facility since we left."

Deana tilted her head in thought, wondering what they might be up to.  
To which Devan replied, to make use of the old tech that'd been sitting unused in the old parts of the facility. According to them, there had to be some satellite connections--it was only logical that an underground installation built by Nobles had at least one or two, otherwise what was the point. If they could find such connections, perhaps they could use them to track the satellite phones they all used to keep in touch.  
As outlandish of an idea as it seemed, Deana thought aloud, the twins could be the ones to pull it off.  
Devan could only hope.

"So...jokes aside," Deana said with an air of trepidation, adjusting her jacket against the breeze as well, "where do we go from here? You wanna keep heading East to where pop said he was going? Or stop for the day? You sure as shit need your rest."

"Yeah. We'll stop at the next town for the night. If we're lucky, maybe the locals know something."

Making one last notation in his book, Devan got up and together he and Deana mounted their horses and rode off.

It was nearly nightfall by the time they reached their destination, just in time for the town’s evening bustle to begin. Clusters of denizens were making their way to the taverns or what passed for nightclubs outside the Capitol. Wordlessly the two weary travelers caught the other’s eye. Couldn’t hurt to try the local watering holes first. And with that in mind, they veered off toward the first tavern in sight, steadily making their way inward to the bar.  
The barkeep seemed visibly annoyed, perhaps the evening started off rough going by the way he kept shifting his gaze about the tavern’s main floor. And just maybe, he smelled trouble from the pair who’d taken a seat directly in front of him.

“‘Sup…” Deana smiled, sweetly enough to disarm any tension.

“What’ll it be,” the barkeep grumbled.

“Information,” Devan quickly interjected before Deana could lay on another layer of charm.

“Hope ya got some coin for it…”

“Depends on the info…”

Devan shifted in his seat and narrowed his eyes, his demeanor betraying any sense that he could be pushed over with mere words and intimidating looks. Being a dhampir, if the barkeep did try, the young hunter had a flash of his fangs at the ready. Few were willing tussle with one of vampiric lineage, and if they were, they were either very brave or very stupid. As the barkeep lowered the beer glass he’d been cleaning, his aura made it clear he was an exceptional coward. His intelligence, however, remained in question. In silence he listened.  
They were in search of two missing people. A woman--a hunter with long dark hair, a tan color to her skin and golden eyes, who was rarely without a dark cavalry hat and a red scarf. The other, a man--a more well known hunter in black who looked remarkably like Devan, with a sword across his back.

“I ain’t seen anyone of the sort…” the barman then backed away, edging up against the wall the of liquor shelves.

Devan said nothing in response beyond a barely audible groan as he flipped a ten dala coin onto the bar top, then pulled Deana alongside him as he headed back out the way they came in. With each place they came across, his mood soured all the more. It seemed they’d gone through at least half of what this town had to offer, and no one knew anything.  
Just then, as they paused for a moment in an out of the way alley, Deana caught sight of something that made her shake her head in disbelief. A man passed by, a pretty lady on each arm, and smug grin on his face--one that radiated the thought of, ‘yes, I am God’s gift, please adore me’. How long she stood there slack jawed was anyone’s guess, before Deana came to her senses and peeked out into the throng of passerby. Was that who she thought she saw? Her father, the infamous Vampire Hunter known as D? It couldn’t be. With two women at his side, and his wife seemingly nowhere to be seen? He would never! But she couldn’t escape what her eyes just witnessed. Quickly she grabbed Devan.   
  
“I think I just saw dad!”

“What?!”

   
  


***   
  


Darting back onto the main thoroughfare then bouncing up and down, Deana looked to catch sight of the man again over the people milling about. Some blocks away, he and his companions disappeared into what had to be the gaudiest brothel Deana had ever seen. Again she grabbed at her brother and pulled him along, despite his protests that he was fully capable of following her without aid. Within minutes they were through the entrance of this Frontier pleasure palace, and at the front desk asking for the very man they were seeking--tall, dressed in black, a woman on each arm.

“Oh that impossibly handsome young man, why yes, he’s here in the upstairs VIP lounge,” said the clerk, “But you’d need a pass for that, or expressed permission from the current customer and he wishes to not be distur-!! HEY YOU CAN’T GO UP THERE!!”

Ignoring the clerk Deana made a dash for the winding staircase, Devan immediately behind her, racing the distance in a mere heartbeat.  
Suddenly the plush doors of the lounge were kicked open, frightening a number of scantily dressed women and men. And there in the doorway stood Deana, perplexed and wide-eyed as her eyes met the scene.

“WHAT THE FUCK, DAD?!?!”

Dressed all in black--expensive looking trousers and boots, and his billowy shirt unbuttoned down to his waist--the man was draped along a lavish sofa, attended to by a cluster of doting courtesans, fawning over and hanging onto his every move and word. That halted the instant the doors burst open. And though a few of his attendants quaked at the outburst, the man scarcely quirked an eyebrow.

“What did you just call me?” he said with a laugh.

“Dad…daddy, please, I’m not playing. We’ve been looking all over for you, and now we find you here of all places? Seriously?!”

Again the man laughed, “You’ve  _got_  to be shitting me right now. I mean, as cute as you are, I’m actually uncomfortable with  _you_  calling me ‘daddy’.”

“Da-!!”

“Nope. Gonna stop ya right there…” the man relieved himself of his seat and his adoring entourage, and casually approached the perturbed intruder of his privacy. “Honestly...just who do you think I am?”

Deana was stunned for a moment.

“Y-You’re D…” she managed to say, “a Hunter known across the entire Frontier...our  _father_ …” Gesturing to herself and Devan, Deana was hoping to impress these facts, perhaps to jog the man’s elusive memory. It was possible their dearest father had hit his head; one could only hope, as this was going to be exceptionally hard to explain to their mother once they found her.  
However, upon hearing this the man changed his demeanor altogether--from annoyed to surprised with a matter of seconds, and seemingly knowing of something Deana and Devan didn’t.

“D...oh! You mean me as in the other me,” the man smirked. “Okay, now I get it. I guess your ol’ pops failed to mention me…”

D, but not D. Another D? What was the world coming to? Good thing there was a bar downstairs, because both Deana and Devan were in need of a drink.  


It took three shooters of high proof whiskey, and a shot of rum for good measure, before either Devan or Deana could sit back and listen to what their Not-Father had to say. His treat, of course. Despite the altercation, this strange D duplicate was feeling rather generous with his money and charm, even buying a few rounds for the handful of other patrons. After a moment of letting the booze and their nerves settle, the two bemused travelers were ready, leaning in to hear the tale.  
It was a dark and stormy night, he began, then laughed aloud. No, that’s not how it went, perish the thought of it being that mundane.  
Although, it was dark.  
There was this odd feeling, of waking from a deep and dreamless sleep, his limbs weak and stiff. His eyes slowly opened, yet it took longer than he wished for his sight to clear. His ears picked up the sound of boots tapping along a stone floor, cloth rustling about.

Then softly a voice called to him, deep and succinct, but somewhat calming too, “Try not to move, your body needs time to fully heal…”

“ ** _Can he speak yet?_** ” came a raspy old voice.

“Doubtful…”

“ ** _Maybe you should’ve let me stay attached a little longer-_** ”

“No. We don’t know what prolonging the process could entail...there might’ve been a risk of the attachment being permanent.”

“ ** _Sounds like vacation for me…_** ”

“Shut up…”

Gently the stranger raised him up, and propped his body against a wall, seemingly checking his vital signs then shined a bright light into his eyes.  
Ocular responses were improving, heartbeat steadily strengthening, and the body and skin rejuvenating.

“W-Was...was I...dead?” croaked the blurry eyed young man.

   
  


***  
  


He was starting to remember. The great subsidence, the long highway, the mountain… That redhead who’d kept calling him the Fake D. The one calling himself the Sacred Ancestor. And then, the final battle. That’s right. He and D, his other self, pitted against each other over who’d be the Sacred Ancestor’s heir. How long ago was that?  
Try not to think about it, said D as he lifted his revived twin from off the ground. There was still a ways to go before this resurrection could be considered complete. While a dhampir, and newly alive, his body was still going to need considerable aid, and that aid was going to take time.

“No,” replied the twin, “Tell me now. How long has it been? Days? Weeks?”

“Weeks,” replied D. “I returned after I traveled to Mia’s homeland and informed her mother of her fate.”

“Hmph… How is that little spitfire? Is she still alive, or...?”

D didn’t reply, continuing his route to a destination unknown with his twin in his arms. In silence they made their way down crumbling corridors, through this place known as Muma, parts of its structure still intact after D destroyed it. Then from the dark, shattered remnants of the facility, they emerged, and into the overcast world outside. What was D’s plan? Take the other him to a hospital? What good was human medicine going to do him? Still D remained silent. Farther on they traveled, a mile or two at most, his plan a mystery until they finally stopped at what appeared to be an abandoned village. D’s steed had been tethered to a tree outside the nearby cemetery, and here it was that D approached a large mausoleum. What was he going to do? Kill his twin again, but this time lay him to rest properly?

“I gathered what I needed to make a stasis chamber, and put it here so you can heal, undisturbed.”

“That’s some weird ass science, brother. I’m going to assume you know what you’re doing.”

“ ** _Of course he knows what he’s doing. When does D ever not know what he’s doing?_** ”

Again D remained quiet, letting the twin D down long enough to open the mausoleum, step inside, and put his machine into operation. Opening the pod, he placed the twin D inside. Once the pod was closed, he would be asleep within seconds, the machine itself set to take care of everything automatically.  
‘I’ll return when you’re ready’, was the last thing D said before closing the pod and activating its programming.  
However, when that fated day arrived it had been the machine that woke the sleeping twin, and not D himself. Where was he? He was supposed to be here. There was one thing, though. A locked chest set on the ground near the pod, opened only by the blue pendant suddenly glowing around the twin’s neck. Inside, a small fortune in dala bills, and a note written by D…

 _‘As I leave this, it’s still not time for you to wake._  
There needed to be a fail-safe should something arise in my absence, so if by some unforeseen event I’ve failed to return, take this and take of yourself until I am able to find you.   
  
Moreover, should my failure to return be caused by my death, the aforementioned still stands. Take care of yourself.  
_You have a new life ahead of you, live it and live it wisely.  
_ _And, you have family in Haven should you want to meet them._

 _D’  
_ 

Deana set down the letter, having read it the instant Devan finished it himself. The entire recount was proving to be a hard pill to swallow--the fact their father had a twin, as well as evidence that he was indeed missing, or dead. And if this twin of D knew of that, and knew there was family who could’ve been made aware sooner rather than later that something had happened...why didn’t he?

“What do ya mean ‘why didn’t I’?” the twin D said.

“Why didn’t you come find us, tell us what was going on! Like dad said, we’re your family! How long have you been awake, knowing that something happened? You could’ve done something about it.” Suddenly Deana slapped the table as she spoke, “But no, here you are, having a grand ol’ time! Meanwhile we’ve been busting our asses trying find our father and our mother, not knowing whether they’re alive or dead…”

Deana paused, her teeth grit, overcome by what was bubbling to the surface. Devan put his hand to her shoulder. Then he shifted his gaze, to the man who looked like D, and sounded like D, but wasn’t in so many ways.

“How is that nobody seems to know you’re here? Half the barkeepers in town claim to have never seen you..” he asked.

The twin D smirked, “ _Tsk_ , easy. Money. And I have a lot of it. I don’t want to be bothered, so I pay people off to make so.”

“Why didn’t you come find us…” Deana asked again, her voice shaking.”

“Don’t start crying…” the twin D replied with a roll of his eyes.

“I just wanna know if my dad’s dead or not!” Deana jumped from her chair, ready to leap across the table, stopping only because Devan caught her.

“Oh  _honey_ …” the twin chuckled, his smirk deepening, almost derisive in his tone.   
“He ain’t dead. I would know instantly if he was. And if that were indeed the case, I would have come found you. But it isn’t. He’s still in here,” he said, tapping his temple, “He’s buzzing around, doing who knows what, I just don’t know where he is.”

“Well then, you’re gonna help us find him!”

At that, the twin D laughed. Like hell he was helping them. Whatever his elusive twin was doing, it had nothing to do with him. Besides, he had it good here for the time being, and wasn’t about to uproot himself for the sake of the other D’s ankle biting brats.  
Now this was what got Devan on his feet, with one hand grabbing the twin by the front of his shirt and pulling him from his chair, and flipping their table over with the other.

“You lousy piece’a-!” Devan said, about to bring his free arm up.

“Oh what’re ya gonna do? Hit me?” the twin D mockingly replied. “What about Sweet Cheeks over there? Does she get a tur-”

Before he could even finish, Deana flashed toward him with her arm reared back, sending a hard punch directly into his nose. The force knocked him backward and into an empty table and chairs; had he been an ordinary human, he’d have gone clear across the bar.  
Twin D caught himself, clutching his broken nose.

“Heh heh,” he chuckled as he wrenched it back into place with a sickly snap, “ya got stones, kid, I’ll give ya that…”

The bar had grown quiet at the top of the fight, some patrons slinking away to keep from getting involved while others were frozen in dismay; a few others had started taking bets.  
A minute passed, with two dhampirs eyeing the third, seemingly gauging the situation before speaking.  
Both Devan and Deana watched the twin D with a narrowed gaze as he righted himself, adjusting his shirt and wiping the blood from his face before addressing them again.

“Fine…” he said. “If it means that much to ya, then fine. Let’s go find your dear ol’ pops.”

  
  
  
End Chapter 1  
____________________________________________


	2. Searching

  
It’d been approximately four hours since they’d left that strange town of vices. And in that time, the even stranger man they found -- the twin of their father, D -- had not stopped complaining.  
Devan had thought to himself at one point that he could even time his watch, down to the second, to the amount of groaning this twin D would do, about whatever little thing was bothering him at the moment.  
It was almost as if it were a game… How many things can one dhampir whine about in thirty minutes. A lot, apparently.  
_This saddle is too uncomfortable… It’s too bright out! ...It’s too cold! ...It’s too windy… My hair! ...How far ‘til the next town? ...I miss the club...should’a brought one of my pals along for company… This weather is doin’ nothin’ for my skin… Did I remember to pack my sunglasses? ‘Cause I need those right about now… Are we there yet? Fuck, my hair!!_  
Again, all of this, for hours. Moreover, how much longer before either Devan or Deana reached their breaking point.  
On the distant horizon lay their next stop, then as predicted their noisy companion let slip an exasperated sigh.  
However, before the twin D could even say a word, Deana turned to him with a burning glare. 

“What?!” She uttered through grit teeth. “What could possibly be bothering you now, huh? Is your foundation running dry? Are your panties wound too tight? What! ‘Cause I swear, if I hear anymore of your bullshit, it’s gonna be my foot in your ass!”

“Well then, if you’re gonna be touchy about it, never mind,” the twin replied, rather nonchalant to Deana’s temper.

“No, out with it! If it’s so goddamn important to ya.”

Then with a cheeky grin, the twin D said as he pointed to what was ahead, “I think we’re about to meet the Welcoming Committee…”

“Ah hell’s bells…” Devan groaned.

A dust cloud of galloping horses and their riders was quickly approaching. If this was indeed a ‘welcoming committee’, they certainly didn’t give off a friendly vibe.  
The three dhampirs kept their mounts going with a steady gait as they awaited the impending arrival, with evasion having become a moot tactic. Friendly or not, sooner or later they would need to enter that town, and would no doubt come across these strangers anyway. Better to get it all out of the way now than let it escalate, seeing as how they were already in a less than advantageous position with the sun still blazing overhead. Then, with the opposing riders closing in, they stopped and raised their arms in a show of civility.  
The riders slowed their gallop and circled the three, drawing their weapons upon halting their horses. For a moment or so they were silent, eyeing these strange newcomers. 

“Wow...you guys pounced on us quick,” the twin D remarked amusedly. “That town of yours got a defensive post or something?” 

“You could say that,” came a cold answer from one of the men, a short-barreled shotgun in one hand and a tattered bandanna wrapped about his face. “Nobody comes close to our town without documented permission, unless they’re affiliated with the Capital government. So, if y’all have papers, you best be handing them over.” 

Well, there went any chance of entering that town, period.   
Devan and Deana eyed each other, wordlessly hoping the other had a plan.  
However, surprisingly enough, it was their mouthy alleged uncle who offered reasonable action. They needn’t enter the town per say, as he put it. They were here for only one thing, and that was to search for two people. And, these fine gentlemen could do them the most glorious favor of saving them time by stating whether or not they’d seen the individuals they sought -- recently, or at all.  
This left the gang of cowboys perplexed. 

The man with the shotgun relaxed his shoulders, albeit only slightly, “What’s your name, pal? A bit too friendly for man with weapons aimed at ‘im…”

The twin D raised his brow in thought. He’d yet to consider a proper name for himself, having so far lived off the pet names given to him -- ’our honored guest’ being his particular favorite. ‘D’ was right out, as he was sure taking that moniker would further displease his already moody compatriots, as well as his vanished sibling should they ever find him. What would his mother have named him? Surely after his father. Vlad, perhaps? Rolled off the tongue easily enough. Alright, it was settled.

“Vlad,” he said, his grin growing wider as if he were bestowing a gift with the announcement of his new name. “But, you can call me ‘V’ for short.”

Devan and Deana appeared both confused, and off put by the newly dubbed V’s manner; again with this ‘gift from god’ act, like they should all be grateful of his new name. As if this were the time and place.  
Deana could see it. V, in his narcissism, was going to say something stupid, then all of them would be in trouble.  
The man with the shotgun, seemingly just as repelled by V, then asked of the two persons they were seeking. There was a chance they might’ve passed through themselves, provided they had travel documents.  
V smiled. One was a Vampire Hunter named D, dressed similar to these fine riders, but more shabby -- as if his clothes had been provided by a bin-dwelling undertaker. At least, he was the last V saw him. D’s looks made up for it, though, and V would know since he had the exact same face. He grinned, smug, as he put his countenance on display.  
As for the other, D’s wife and mother to his two comrades, V had no idea. Just look to the youngins, he gestured, more so the girl, and imagine the same gold eyes and darker skin. Probably a real head-turner herself, considering she was able to pull a cold fish like D.  
Pleased with this, V ended his little description and waited for a response.  
Amidst the pause, the leading rider and his group were left mentally scratching their heads. No one spoke apart from mere shrugs or shakes of the head. None of them seemed to know who V was talking about. 

“Oh, come on!” V threw his hands up, “You at least know who D is! Who doesn’t! The asshole’s been everywhere! There isn’t a man or woman alive who hasn’t been left forever quivering thanks to him.”

“Maybe so…” replied the man, shouldering his shotgun, “but they don’t live here. And, as far as I’m aware, we ain’t seen this D, or his wife. Now, take your little gang and go elsewhere.” 

Annoyed was not quite the word for his mood. This defeat left V growing hot in the cheeks, and with a sour taste in his mouth to boot. How was he to know these men weren’t lying? Rarely was there a person on the Frontier with nothing to hide, so how were they any different? All manner of scenarios came to mind. But, before he could utter another word on the matter, a hand clapped itself to his shoulder. V turned, and there was Devan with a cautious look.  
  
“Let it go, before you make things worse,” he said, his grip on V’s shoulder tightening. “From what I can tell, they’re speaking the truth. So, we’ve no other choice now than to move on to the next town.” 

“But-!”

Devan shook his head, “Nope, not another word. We’re leaving. Thanks, gents, for your time.”

Taking V’s horse by the reins, Devan forced his fellow traveler toward a new direction, heading away from this place and to the next on his map. Should they manage their time wisely, they’d make it there by evening.

 

***

 

Riding into their new destination, Devan and Deana knew not to get their hopes up, as this place looked about as promising as the last several towns they’d traveled through.  
V, on the other hand, spotted something that was right up his alley: a small, but quaint, brothel. Without a word he veered off from the group, a twinkle in his eye at his intended prize.   
That is, until Devan caught sight and made to cut him off.  
At no point would any of them be wasting time and money on vice. If dear ol’ uncle V had an itch to scratch, he’d have to do it himself.  
V groaned at the thought. He didn’t want to have to scratch his own itch, it was more fun having someone else do it.  
Deana, though, had something else in mind to keep V in check…  
Behave, or else that itch was going to end up locked in a jar until their search was done.  
Both men looked wide-eyed to her cold gaze, V quickly covering his lap for protection. The young woman didn’t shift in her demeanor in the few seconds she gave to let the notion set. Once she felt her point had been made, she stated firmly they would rest for the night then start fresh in the morning. And, if she and Devan had to sleep in shifts to keep V in line, then so be it.

Within the hour they were set up in the local hotel, the cheapest room for three being one with two beds and a squeaky sofa.  
Despite her earlier vigor and severity, Deana was out the instant she made herself comfortable on one of the beds. This left the other two to their own devices.  
V resigned himself to the sofa, figuring he was going to be made to sleep there anyway, while Devan sat opposite him on the other bed. They sat quietly for a moment or so, listening to Deana’s gentle snores. 

V softly sighed, “I’m not at all tired.”

“I am,” Devan replied, nearly in a whisper. “But, I know I’m not going to be able to sleep, not until I can do a little digging first.”

“Then do it.”  
  
“You’re coming with me, though.”  
  
“Fuck…”  
  
“Hey, it ain’t my fault you can’t be left unsupervised. If you behave, though, I’ll treat you to a beer later.”  
  
V thought to himself briefly, then replied, “Make it top-shelf whiskey and you have yourself a deal.”  


This town was as average as any other, albeit more financially stable it seemed. The denizens appeared content, happier to have food to eat and the ability to grow healthy crops and maintain livestock than to have the latest fashion or nicer furnishings. Just about everything appeared to be handmade or bought second-hand. Apart from food and other perishable goods, even the general store didn’t sell anything new. And if the shopkeep did happen to have something new, said item would’ve been specially ordered on request -- usually parts for farming equipment and sewing machines.  
As Devan made small talk with the shop owner, in regards to their search and who was best to go to for information, V busied himself by browsing. Nothing here was to his taste. All of it bland farming fair, and not the least bit fashionable. Even the fabric section was a few years out of season. No finer fabrics either. No silks, or velvet, or satin of any kind. Just boring cotton and wool linens as far as V could tell, some with even more boring floral or nature-based patterns. This is depressing as hell, he thought, how do people live like this?  
Then, a familiar voice shook him from his thoughts.  
Devan called, and waved at V to meet with him back outside. 

“Thanks,” V said. “Another minute in there and I might’ve gone insane.”  
  
“Uh, not gonna comment.” Devan then shifted the conversation. “So here’s the thing. There’s a guy we can meet who knows of anything and anyone who comes into town…”  
  
“Yeah? Like what?”

“I don’t know, ‘cause I didn’t hear it from him, _if you know what I mean_.”

“Oh, I get it!” When it sunk in, V smiled knowingly, then lowered his voice, “Like blackmarket shit, right?”  
  
“I don’t know, ‘cause you didn’t hear it from me…” Then Devan cleared his throat, and whispered to V. “They don’t speak openly of the travelers passing through, because typically those travelers work with the town officials. It’s all hush-hush. But the important thing is, this guy will know if our parents came through or not. And worst case scenario, if he hasn’t seen them, he’ll at least know who has.”

“Oh for the luva-” V clapped a hand to his face. “Dev…what if this ends up being one big circle jerk?”  
  
“First off, you don’t get to call me that. Second, it’s a risk, I’ll give you that. But at the moment it’s better than nothing. Now let’s go. We’ve got thirty minutes until the guy closes shop.”

 

***  
  


Down a few back alleys, and across an empty intersection to the town’s more industrial side, they came to a small maintenance depot, the front and left side of the property a decently organized scrapyard.  
Go towards rear, Devan had been told, and look for cellar doors bearing a strange sigil. Knock three times, then recite a specific phrase when greeted. When done correctly, entry will be granted, and one may conduct business accordingly.  
Upon finding said doors, the sigil engraved on a small slotted window, Devan knocked on the weathered metal and waited.  
  
Within a few minutes the tiny window opened, and from the blackness beyond it came a cracked, and raspy voice. “What can I do for ye?”

Keeping his voice low, Devan spoke, “The sun shines brightly overhead, but our shadows still remain...” 

After a brief pause the raspy voice behind the door replied, “And remain they shall, for the darkness is our cover.”

Immediately a lock was unlatched, and the cellar doors opened, revealing a dim concrete stairwell and a bent old man gesturing his new guests inside. They stepped into what seemed like an average basement workshop, that is, until Devan and V took notice of some of the stock therein. That shopkeeper wasn’t kidding, there was indeed some undercover dealings operating within the town, and not just the average blackmarket fare either. Of course there was the usual: rare medicinals, weapons, chemicals, and even a small stock of blood pills that would be a welcomed addition to Devan and Deana’s personal stash considering their new travel companion. However, the other portion of the workshop held some serious fare; the high grade weaponry and narcotics alone would cause trouble for the town if anyone from the Capital government were to find this place.  
  
Although, to V’s mind, he just found a treasure trove. Practically drooling, he went toward a modified plasma rifle and a set of acid grenades. “Hey, old timer, how much for the goodies?” 

While the old man quirked a brow at the question, Devan threw a dirty look that made V play coy instead.

“Ignore him,” Devan said, “we’re here for information.”  
  
“Aye, and what would that be?”

“The whereabouts of two hunters. One goes by the name D, and the other may be going under the name Rad Nad.” After saying as much, Devan mentally begged for the smallest bit of luck. Having gained nothing so far, he was about to go mad with desperation.  
And seemingly, such luck was about to be on his side.

The old man grinned as he thought, further wrinkling his elderly face, “I do know of this hunter D, or the tales of him anyway. Aye, if they be true, the details would have him look much like the odd lad with ye. Alas, this D has not crossed our paths I’m afraid. But, this Rad Nad of whom ye speak...if I recall, she also went by Nadia?” 

“Yes! That’s her.”

“Aye, she came through not too long ago, also askin’ about this fella D. If the lot of ye are in search of the same man, then I suppose I’d be givin’ ye the same deal I gave her.”

The old man went on to say that in the black market rings across the Frontier, there were rumors of night creatures migrating. Their movements across different sectors had a number of hunters, all of varying classes, scrambling to take advantage. But, many did not return. And the very few who did, spoke of the creatures leading the charge. Nobles. Or more plainly, lower class vampires seeking an upgrade in status, and bringing with them their underlings and like-minded brethren.  
To their minds, that is what the surviving hunters believed their motives to be, as one hunter allegedly overheard a vampire say as much. How they planned to do so, no one could know. At the end, one thing was for certain. They were all headed to a place called the Underground.

“The way I figured it, if a band of Nobles be makin’ a gatherin’ of sorts, then any famed hunter like that fella D might be out to put a stop to it. So, find this Underground, and ye may find him as well. That’s what I told this Nadia, and that’s what I be tellin’ ye lads.”

“Find the Underground, find D and Nadia -- possibly. Thanks, old man. This...this is a great help.” Then Devan latched onto V and made for the exit. That is, until the old man stopped them in their tracks.

“OY! Ye come for my service, then leave without proper compensation? Who raised ye?! Pay up!”

Despite such an embarrassing mistake, the return to their hotel marked a welcomed change in this quest, making the grueling effort so far all the more worth it.  
Devan entered their room with a hopeful gleam in his eye, and a growing urge in his gut to wake his sleeping sister. Although, perhaps it’d be better to wait until morning like they had planned. As it was, Devan’s own fatigue was reaching its tipping point, and V himself was beyond plastered after several bottles of the finest liquor the local bars had to offer; a treat V gladly paid for himself, after Devan bought the whiskey he’d promised beforehand. Watching his uncle stumble about, drunkenly singing to himself, making passes at just about everyone they encountered… Yes, a good sleep was in order. As quietly as possible, they headed for their respective beds.  
V crashed on the sofa with a soft belch, then gave a drunken chuckle. Devan barely had his boots off before V called his attention.

“Hey, Dev...” he hiccuped.

“What? And I told you not to call me that.”

“I’m itchy horny…”

“I can’t help you with that, pal. Go to sleep.”

V was out cold not a second later, snoring loudly.  
It was astounding to think of how vastly different he was from D. Identical in looks and voice, even in some mannerisms. But, their personalities were like night and day. Moreover, how would they be in person, together in the same space? And with Nadia as well.  
Devan shuddered slightly at the thought. Knowing how adverse Deana had been to V’s antics up to this point, their parents were likely not going to be much different.

“This’s gonna be one hell of a reunion,” Devan sighed as he lay back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He gazed silently at nothing in particular, heavy snores coming from either side of the room. Then, pushing all thoughts from his mind, he tuned out the noise and fell asleep.

  
  
  
End Chapter 2  
____________________________________________

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Take away Twin D's murder-for-fun habits, and what are you left with... Same ol' obnoxious peacock, but this time with a conscience.
> 
> Just what kinda jiggery pokery did you do to him, D?


End file.
